your words in my memory, are like music to me
by SilentMuse.x
Summary: Her fixation on him was almost unhealthy. She had always known going there was wrong. It was masochistic. But her need for closure begged her to see him one last time.


**A/N: **This is in a similar universe to ESPG (mainly because Arissa makes a brief appearance here) but it's in no way connected to it. Plus an established Puckleberry friendship is used.  
**Disclaimer: **Never really owned Glee. I only own Arissa.

She vaguely remembers distant memories of childish dreams. Small snippets of the life she wants to call her own. Memories of innocence and naivety.

But without him, she crashes back to reality. With no one to encourage her, no one to ignite the flames of her passion and dreams, she spirals down. She keeps on falling and falling and falling.

She falls into a state. Not of depression - Rachel Berry doesn't do depression - but of passiveness. She sits through practices of Glee and not one word registers in her brain. Their laughter pierces through her silence and she just wants to block them all out. Truth to be told, all she could focus on were promises of inevitabilities and songs of hellos and goodbyes.

She can't even bear to enter the ballet studio anymore.

She knows they're worried about her. So before she leaves, she flashes them a show-face (something she's proud to say she learned from him) and straightens her posture. She knows that if he was here, he would applaud her for her acting skills.

When she goes home, she walks straight to her room - luckily reaching her bed before her knees fail her. She doesn't even remember when she started sobbing.

She was falling and she needed him. Her heart ached as she realized that as much as she needed him, he didn't need her. He never needed her and he probably never will.

As she felt the tiredness overcome her, her haziness gave her the illusion of strong arms wrapping themselves around her - pulling her close and feeling their bodies meld perfectly against each other. A soft smile settled upon her lips at the solace that her subconsciousness offered her.

It would have to be enough for now.

She enters her home only be greeted by the familiar voice of Lionel Richie. The music knocked her off her senses. She dropped her bag on the floor, desperately finding the source of the music. When she saw that it came from the television - apparently, her dads were watching a cheesy TV show as she saw a couple macking out to the blasted song - she sprinted so fast that when she bumped her knee on a nearby coffee table the pain didn't even register in her head. She ignored the surprised mutters of her dads when she suddenly switched the channel.

She didn't even bother explaining why. She just turned on her heel and walked up to her bedroom.

Someday she'll have the courage to listen to her Lionel Richie record again. But now, it will have to stay in a box hidden inside her closet along with the memories of a certain bright-eyed boy with big dreams and broken promises.

* * *

The first thing she sees when she wakes up everyday is a map. She didn't keep a map to mark the places that she wanted to go to if ever the play she played a part in decided to go on tour.

In fact, there was only one state - one _city_ - mark with her infamous gold star.

Los Angeles, California.

Every time she walked up to the map posted on her wall, she closed her eyes and listened to the familiar melodic, albeit a little cocky, voice in her head.

_I'm going to a little school called the University of California Los Angeles. Maybe you've heard of it. It's in Los Angeles._

She heaved out a sigh as she reached out and touched the star with a ghost of a whisper of _someday _touching her lips.

* * *

She flinches when she sees eggs. She smiles sadly when someone makes a snide remark about her animal sweaters. She walks pass the ballet studio without a second glance. She tries her best not to turn and look whenever she hears someone playing the piano. She asks Mr. Schuester if they could stay away from Queen songs.

But no matter how hard she tried, every time she steps inside the auditorium, she can't help but see a ghost of a confident boy holding a naive girl whispering promises of forever.

No matter how hard she tried, every time she stepped in the parking lot of the school, all she saw were egg shells and egg yolks dripping on the pavement with whispers of "I loved you" in the wind.

She convinces herself that she didn't miss him and that the familiar ache in her heart was that of betrayal and not longing. (It would be stupid of her to miss him. _It was even more stupid of her to deny it._)

But even if she was a particularly good actress, even she can't fool her own heart.

* * *

It had been a while since she had a decent conversation with _anyone_ in Glee club. She had kept her distance and suprisingly, they all respected that. Finn had stopped pursuing her a long time ago and Kurt and Mercedes had stopped with the "I told you so"s.

Arissa had understood that she was reminding Rachel too much of Jesse so she kept her distance too. The younger girl had suggested that she transferred back to Carmel High but Rachel vehemently disagreed. In a way, Rachel knew that the last connection she had to Jesse was Arissa. She wanted to be masochistic and selfish – wanting to keep one last connection to the boy who broke her heart.

She was surprised when after Glee practice one day, Arissa approached her timidly holding something in her hand.

"Can I talk to you?" the younger St. James asked softly. Rachel nodded and urged her to continue with whatever she had to say. "The Arts Program in UCLA is holding a special and exclusive performance in their school. It's my brother's first performance ever since he got there."

"I don't see how this is relevant to me," Rachel honestly told her. Arissa took a deep breath.

"Jesse sent me three tickets," Arissa said slowly. Rachel flinched at the sound of his name. "One for me, one for Uncle Spencer and an extra one just in case I wanted to bring someone with me."

"Arissa, you can't expect me to…" Rachel started, panicking all over. _She wasn't serious, was she?_

"I'm asking you to consider it," Arissa quickly said, interrupting her. "_Please,_ Rachel. It's what my brother would've wanted."

Rachel wanted to ask her if _'_her brother ever thought about what_ she _wantedwhen he broke an egg over her forehead_' _but her curiousity and masochism won her over. It always did. "I'll think about it." The younger girl's face lighted up. "I'm not promising you anything."

"Of course," Arissa said with a nod. She reached out to place something in Rachel's hand. "It's the ticket for admission. In case you decided to come."

* * *

Rachel tossed and turned in her bed, staring at the ticket that was on her bedside table. Her parents could afford the ticket to California and they would've allowed her to go if there was a chaperone but should she go? She had always tried to push him at the back of her mind. Denying and forgetting had always been her way of forgiving people. It was her way of being ready. She had forgotten about Shelby's rejection and Finn's shortcomings. She had forgotten all about the snide remarks that her fellow Glee clubbers used to make about her. Jesse's presence was slowly becoming a shadow in her life and the thought brought both comfort and fear in her.

Because no matter what the ache in her heart told her, she didn't want to forget Jesse. She didn't want him to be reduced into a pile of murmurings and shadows in her life. He had become such a huge part of her life, and she didn't want him to disappear from her life completely.

As the days passed by, the day of Jesse's performance was inching closer and closer. More days were being crossed out on her calendar. Most nights were spent pacing around her room, staring at the gold star on her map. Her thoughts were clouded by speculations of how Jesse was holding up. A part of her wanted him miserable and shoved to the back of the performance but a larger part of her wanted him to shine – wanted him to become the star he was destined to be.

One Friday night, she got so frustrated by the thoughts of him clouding her mind, she went to her closet and retrieved the box full of his memories. She walked over to her window and opened it with her free hand. She made a move to throw the box out of the window but it was like something was stopping her. She settled the box on the ledge of her window and tried to force herself to push it out but she couldn't.

Growling with frustration, she became even more upset when she realized what she had to do. She grabbed the box and threw it over to her bed. She shut her window and walked over to her desk to plug in her iPod. She scrolled through her countless playlists and when she found _the song_, she pressed play. Lionel Richie's voice filled the air as Rachel sat down on her bed and opened the box. She smiled fondly as she took out the song book that started it all.

"_Hello, is it me you're looking for_?" Rachel sang along softly as she flipped through the song book.

With a sigh, she reached over to her side table and retrieved her phone. She flipped it open and searched through her contacts. When she saw his name, she took a deep breath and pressed _Call_. She pressed her phone to her ear and held her breath as she listened to the rings. After the fifth ring, he picked up. Rachel let out the breath she was holding in.

"Noah, can I ask a _huge_ favor from you?"


End file.
